Chapter 42: When Spring Comes And Flowers Bloom, Everything Will Be Fine…

After hearing Jiang Qi’s words, Zhi Qi didn’t respond.

The room was deathly silent. The girl stared at him and stubbornly asked, “I’m asking you—have you ever thought about me?”

Jiang Qi couldn’t help but close his eyes.

Think? How could he not? He slowly nodded.

“No, you haven’t.” Zhi Qi gave a bitter smile and shook her head. “If you really liked me that much, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

Jiang Qi’s heart skipped a beat. He suddenly stood up to explain, but the girl’s soft hand gently covered his lips.

“Shh.” Zhi Qi looked at Jiang Qi. In his panicked eyes, her smile held a trace of bitterness. “But I still like you.”

Her sudden confession was startling. Jiang Qi’s heart thudded.

“I might even like you more now.” Zhi Qi stood on tiptoe and gently kissed the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m really grateful to that old man.”

No matter what, he didn’t let Jiang Qi truly commit a crime. He didn’t let his hands be stained with blood. And Jiang Qi’s actions were exactly the kind she admired most—this girl didn’t mind a boy with a criminal record. She only despised hypocrites without pride.

Zhi Qi’s sudden intimacy and expression left Jiang Qi too stunned to feel joy—only unease. “You… have you forgiven me?”

“I’m still a little angry, but maybe I can. Just…” Zhi Qi looked at him steadily. “I want you to promise me one thing.”

Jiang Qi didn’t ask what it was. He just nodded.

No matter what Zhi Qi asked of him, he would agree.

But Jiang Qi didn’t expect what she wanted was for him to be hospitalized.

In the Fifth Hospital by the Lin Lan River, the boy sat in a blue-brown striped hospital gown, leaning against the headboard, looking thin and frail. Only his eyes were filled with confusion as he looked at Zhi Qi, who had just returned after completing his admission procedures.

“Zhi Qi,” Jiang Qi hesitated, then slowly said, “I’ve been taking my meds since I got out… Do I really have to be hospitalized?”

He couldn’t help but feel that being hospitalized was like being trapped in a cage.

“Yes.” But Zhi Qi’s tone left no room for negotiation. She smiled and handed him the porridge she brought. “Be good and listen. Let’s start with one month.”

Physically, Jiang Qi didn’t have any condition that required hospitalization. But his nerves, his mind—they needed structured healing that only the hospital could provide.

Zhi Qi had asked the doctor—Jiang Qi’s condition wasn’t incurable.

It was just a psychological illness, and treatment is always a long journey.

Jiang Qi was a bit reluctant, but since he had promised Zhi Qi, he didn’t resist further.

He simply lowered his head, sulking like a child, and asked gloomily, “Then what about after a month?”

“After a month…” Zhi Qi smiled. “We’ll see.”

She believed that within a month, Jiang Qi would change significantly. By then, being discharged might not be out of the question.

Because in the 21 years of his life so far, Jiang Qi had rarely lived like a “normal” or “ordinary” person.

From the continuous abuse and trauma in his youth, to prison, and then somehow stumbling into the entertainment industry… he never had a single peaceful day.

Zhi Qi truly hoped that in this serene and beautiful rehabilitation hospital, Jiang Qi could experience a few days of calm and simplicity.

There were no scheming paparazzi here to disturb them—only a quiet, gentle atmosphere. Just the two of them. More importantly, leaving the hospital required registration, and she was listed as his emergency contact. That way, she wouldn’t have to worry about Jiang Qi sneaking away again.

“Don’t worry.” The girl sat across from him and reached out to gently rub his cheek. “I’ll come see you after class.”

When Zhi Qi suddenly mentioned “class,” Jiang Qi remembered that he once had a dream of completing his education. Now, it felt like an illusion—something beautiful but unreachable.

Not wanting Zhi Qi to worry, he forced a smile and nodded.

After a moment, as if remembering something, he added, “Don’t let it affect your studies.”

“It won’t.” Zhi Qi rested her chin in her hand, her big dark eyes blinking. “We’re about to go on break anyway.”

It was early January now—just a couple more weeks until winter vacation.

Jiang Qi was stunned. “That soon?”

“Yeah, the New Year’s almost here.” Zhi Qi smiled softly. “Jiang Qi, once this year is over, all the bad luck will be over too.”

When spring comes and the flowers bloom, everything will get better.

She would stay by his side—always.

Zhi Qi took Jiang Qi’s car keys and house keys, and using the location he gave her, decided to go to his place to pack some daily essentials for him.

The apartment Jiang Qi was living in had been rented with the help of Qiu Mi. It was in the bustling Huxinting district of the East City—well-connected and convenient. Back when Shen Lei was determined to bring Jiang Qi into the entertainment industry, he had signed a two-year lease.

Now, there was just over a year left. Technically, the apartment should be returned and the rent refunded to Shen Lei.

But when Zhi Qi brought it up, Jiang Qi just shook his head. “Forget it. No need to make him angry.”

He had already caused Shen Lei enough trouble over the past year. Now that he had left the industry, there was no point in bothering him over such trivial matters.

To Shen Lei, the rent money was just a drop in the ocean. But if Jiang Qi insisted on returning it, it might make Shen Lei feel like he didn’t consider him a friend.

And that wasn’t true.

In Jiang Qi’s heart, Shen Lei and Qiu Mi were among the few people he could call friends. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

Zhi Qi entered the Huxinting complex, went up to the door Jiang Qi had mentioned, and entered the code to go inside.

The apartment, which hadn’t been lived in for a while, was cold and empty—no heating or warm air. As soon as she stepped in, Zhi Qi shivered.

She instinctively glanced around at Jiang Qi’s living environment.

In this upscale complex, no unit was smaller than 115 square meters. The space Jiang Qi lived in alone was large, tastefully decorated, and fully furnished. But… it felt cold. An indescribable kind of cold.

Maybe it was the black, gray, and white color scheme of the furniture. Or maybe it was because the owner hadn’t been home in days.

Zhi Qi sighed softly, looked around, and headed into the bedroom to pack his clothes.

She had already guessed that Jiang Qi probably wouldn’t have something as “domestic” as a suitcase, so she had brought a small rolling one with her—though she wasn’t sure if it would be enough.

But when she opened the wardrobe beside the bed, she froze.

Turns out, her earlier worry was completely unfounded. Jiang Qi’s wardrobe was nearly empty—barely any clothes at all.

Rather than worrying about not fitting everything in, now she was worried she wouldn’t have enough to fill the suitcase.

Did this mean Jiang Qi never really saw this place as a home? Just a temporary stop?

Just like swallows migrating south, every stop along the way is merely a resting place. As Zhi Qi thought about this, a bitter smile crept onto her face.

She packed the few clothes Jiang Qi had in his wardrobe into the suitcase, then went to the bathroom to gather essentials like a toothbrush and razor. After that, she zipped up the suitcase and prepared to leave.

But as she passed through the living room, her eyes were drawn to a bottle of pills on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

Zhi Qi hesitated. Her fingers loosened from the suitcase handle, and she walked over to the sofa.

It was a soft Italian leather sofa—the kind that creases if you sleep on it too long. As she got closer, she noticed faint wrinkles on the gray leather. No one had been here for days… yet it seemed Jiang Qi had slept on the sofa more often than in his bed.

Zhi Qi shook her head helplessly and sat down, lowering her gaze to the pill bottle on the table. The label was covered in dense English text, but she recognized it—it was a painkiller.

And not just any painkiller. It was a prescription drug, the kind only a doctor could prescribe.

People who used this kind of medication were usually in unbearable pain.

Zhi Qi immediately recalled that day in the hospital, when Jiang Qi had fallen asleep and she quietly lifted the thin blanket covering him. She had unbuttoned his shirt and seen what lay beneath.

His pale, slender body was covered in scars.

Burns, cuts, blunt force trauma… layer upon layer, densely packed.

At the time, Zhi Qi had bitten down hard on her knuckle to keep from making a sound, leaving a deep bite mark.

She had forced herself to calmly button his shirt back up, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. That night, the nightmares she hadn’t had in a long time returned.

In her dream, Jiang Qi was still a teenager, being abused and beaten by faceless figures. And she could only watch—helpless, unable to do anything but witness it all. Zhi Qi woke up crying.

She cried so hard in the middle of the night that Meng Chunyu was startled. She came over and held her, gently comforting her: “Don’t be afraid of nightmares. They’re just lies.”

But Chunyu didn’t know—Zhi Qi’s nightmare wasn’t a lie. It was real.

Zhi Qi finally understood why, even in the sweltering heat of July and August in Lin Lan, Jiang Qi always wore long sleeves and pants. She used to feel hot just looking at him and had even told him he should wear lighter clothes—short sleeves, shorts.

Looking back now, it all seemed so naive.

Jiang Qi had simply wanted to hide the scars that couldn’t be covered.

A single tear fell onto the white fingers clutching the pill bottle. Zhi Qi snapped out of her thoughts and quickly wiped her eyes.

She sniffled and couldn’t help but laugh at herself—lately, she’d become such a crybaby, always tearing up. It was embarrassing.

But… she really did feel so much heartache for Jiang Qi.

Fighting back the sting in her eyes, Zhi Qi glanced around and, seeing no tissues on the table, opened the drawer of the coffee table to grab some.

But the moment she pulled it open, what she saw made her forget she’d even been crying.

So many pills—an entire drawer full of bottles, all different sizes and labels. Clearly, they were all different medications.

Jiang Qi had said he’d been taking medicine since getting out of prison… Was this what he meant? Just taking whatever?

Zhi Qi bit her lip, a surge of anger rising in her chest. She dragged the suitcase over, sat down on the floor, and began tossing the bottles in one by one.

She was going to ask the doctor exactly what all these medications were!

But when she reached the bottom of the drawer, her fingers brushed against something hard.

Frowning, Zhi Qi took everything out of the drawer to see what it was.

—It was a small wooden dolphin.

Carved from sandalwood. Not particularly delicate, even a bit clumsy and dull in its cuteness.

But Zhi Qi remembered—she had given it to him.

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